


in the midst

by notimeforspaces



Series: kisses, tears, & love [2]
Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-02 00:07:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15784926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notimeforspaces/pseuds/notimeforspaces
Summary: Everyone talks about how perfect resident campus angel Park Jihoon is. Park Woojin doesn't believe a single inch of it. But then he meets said boy, and suddenly he does.Or, when Park Woojin gets his heart broken four times but falls in love five.





	in the midst

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to _"through the haze" _; I would recommend reading that first because this story is really just a supplement for the first. Enjoy! :)__

There are always whispers of praise tailing resident campus angel Park Jihoon. Beautiful, sweet, and smart, the rumors sing delightedly. Eyes that hold galaxies and a smile that puts even the blooming flowers to shame.

Park Woojin doesn’t believe a single inch of it. (After all, can anyone _really_ be that perfect?)  
But then he meets Park Jihoon, and suddenly he does.

He spots said boy sitting alone outside a cafe, sipping absentmindedly on what appears to be a strawberry milkshake, eyes trained straight ahead at the campus lawn. Woojin isn’t sure what aspect of the lawn Jihoon is so absorbed in as the scene is so _mundane_ , nameless college students sitting around and basking in the sun, mind a few others walking across it to whatever classes they have. However, something he _is_ sure about is the magnetic pull the boy seems to exude, a characteristic Woojin attributes to the beauty that graces his full cheekbones and gorgeous doe eyes.

It’s their third meeting—well, it’s about to be their third, he decides determinedly as he walks over to the psychology major. There have been a myriad of questions at the edge of his tongue since the party last Tuesday (eight days ago, he recalls—but who’s counting?), the most pressing of them being _why did you leave?_

But before he can make it to the table, a tall figure swaggers over and plops himself down in front of Jihoon. Woojin recognizes the boy to be none other than Lai Guanlin, the foreign exchange student who happens to be his neighbor and, according to Daniel, Park Jihoon’s little. He hasn’t talked much to the Taiwanese boy, only exchanging the most basic of smiles and courteous nods when they pass each other in their apartment building.

For some reason he stills at the sight of the two, occuring to him that Jihoon might have a planned meeting with his little, to do, uh, whatever it was bigs did with their littles. Despite the fact that this is probably his cue to leave since barging in on a meeting would be, as defined by social etiquette, _pretty damn rude_ , Woojin can’t seem to tear his eyes away from the two. Perhaps it’s because of how dazed he is at Jihoon’s pretty smile, but a gut feeling nags at a much more unpleasant emotion than awe.

The gut feeling is confirmed when Guanlin gives his big a sweet, toothy grin as he points at his cheek and his stomach bubbles with something akin to nausea when Jihoon rolls his eyes playfully before leaning in to give him a peck because shouldn’t it be _him_ that gets a cheek kiss? He’s about to go over and demand to know what’s going on when the younger boy looks up and makes eye contact with him, an easy smile forming on his features as he gives Woojin a nonchalant wave. Woojin doesn’t want to return the wave, jealousy still pricking at his skin, but then Jihoon looks up to trace Guanlin’s line of sight, so he puts on the most charming smile he can before he waves back and walks over.

“Hey,” Woojin says as his eyes sweep over the pair. Guanlin seems surprised at his initiative to approach them, an openly curious glint to his gaze as he himself looks between him and Jihoon.

“Hello Woojin hyung,” the boy returns cordially before cocking his head at the one sitting across from him, “You know Jihoon hyung?”

“Yeah, we’re—” Woojin pauses as he looks at the older, who suddenly seems to be very preoccupied by his milkshake. He isn’t sure what to make of their relationship—they were more than acquaintances, sure, but they had never reached the _friend_ part where they could joke and talk about the little things, and yet he could vividly recall something much more intimate that had passed between them at the party.

Before he can muster up an appropriate answer, however, a shout of his name diverts his attention, one that is followed by a pair of skinny arms wrapping around him from behind.

“Woojin,” a high voice croons, softer this time, and the lemon scent is familiar enough for him to recognize the girl embracing him.

“Doyeon,” he says endearingly, turning his head slightly to look at the girl. Doyeon offers him a saccharine smile, but the grip around his torso is too tight, the upwards edge to her lips too forced. Woojin recognizes the subtle panic in her eyes and realizes that she’s keeping up a front for the two he’s with. “You look beautiful today, are you dressed up for me?” he teases lightly to keep up the casual atmosphere. He removes himself from her embrace to take one of her hands and give it a comforting squeeze.

The relief in her eyes at his understanding is apparent as she graces him with a short laugh, but the anxious glance she throws at Jihoon and Guanlin is enough for him to decide that his business with Jihoon could be saved for another time. He looks back at the duo with a semi-apologetic smile (not _too_ apologetic because it’d clue them in on Doyeon’s distress), and receives an amused grin from Guanlin in return. Jihoon is still fixated on his beverage, and the forced nonchalance almost makes Woojin heart sink until he remembers Seongwoo telling him that Jihoon is an introvert. _He’s probably just uncomfortable because of Doyeon_ , he reasons.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by Doyeon’s increasingly tight hold on his hand and smiles at her assuringly. “I’ll see you guys around later,” he bids with a tilt of his head and is relieved when the duo—both of them—nods in return. Doyeon flashes the two her standard model smile as well and lets Woojin gently pull her away.

Woojin isn’t really one for close friendships—with girls especially, seeing as how he always ended up having to break their hearts—but he’s always had a soft spot for Doyeon because they’ve never been anything more than friends. So he waits patiently for her to speak as they walk hand-in-hand to the back of the social sciences building where he knows they’ll have a place to speak without having prying eyes on them. When they reach aforementioned area, Doyeon’s words burst from her like water out of a broken dam, and her eyes do the same, tears spilling out uncontrollably as she talks about how Eunwoo, her sort-of-boyfriend and sort-of-not, blatantly ignores her existence around his friends and basically any time the two _weren’t_ alone.

Woojin soothes the girl with comforting words as he wraps his arms around her despite his wry thoughts on how Doyeon’s brilliance is wasted on a shitty (albeit good-looking) guy like Eunwoo, because why anyone would waste their breath on someone who won’t give them the time of day is beyond him. His heart aches for how his best friend sobs in his arms, a silent prayer leaving his lips for her to find someone better. He waits until the girl is all cried out to hold her face tenderly between his hands and lean in for an Eskimo kiss, a gesture he knows will make Doyeon laugh because her nose has always been sensitive, and he smiles in satisfaction when it indeed elicits a small giggle from her.

(What he doesn’t know is that Jihoon had decided just moments before to walk around the back of the social sciences building in a shortcut to his next class, only for him to turn back at the sight of a seeming impending kiss.)

Woojin holds Doyeon’s mirror for her as she touches up her makeup to minimize the appearance of her breakdown and then the girl leaves with a cheery thanks and a tight hug, heading off to her next class with a bravado that’s almost admirable. The dancer is left to wander around the campus for a while longer before his next lecture and his thoughts find themselves aching for a certain vanilla-flavored boy.

But speak of the devil—or rather, an angel—because his spirits lift considerably when his eyes land on a familiar pink sweatshirt.

“Jihoon,” he calls sweetly as he approaches, the boy in question standing outside of the chemistry building, currently engaged in conversation with a person he’s seen too often with his cousin. _Bae Jinyoung_ , he remembers idly.

Jihoon startles at his name and looks around, pausing when he meets Woojin’s gaze. Recognition flashes in his eyes and Woojin is almost hopeful at the other’s reaction—maybe he’d get a cheek kiss this time?—but he freezes when the older turns away a moment later without so much as a smile, obviously pulling at Jinyoung’s sleeve to follow him. The younger boy seems bewildered at the sudden course of action but agrees to it nonetheless as he’s dragged into the building.

The two disappear in the blink of an eye and Woojin is _still_ standing frozen at their encounter. _Maybe they had class_ , he thinks dazedly, but Doyeon’s sobs from earlier echo unhelpfully in his head.

_‘He blatantly ignores me whenever he’s with his friends. He acts like he doesn’t even know me, Woojin, what do I do? I just don’t understand why he’s so ashamed to acknowledge me,’_

Suddenly the boy’s silence earlier during his talk with Guanlin clicks and an acrid taste fills his mouth.

**➨➨➨**

Whenever one of his friends is stressing over whether or not they should try to keep their object of their affection, another is always bound to pipe up with some inspirational variation of _‘don’t let them be the one that got away’._

Park Woojin doesn’t believe a single inch of it. (After all, if the other wants to get away, who is he to stop them?)  
But then he meets Park Jihoon, and suddenly he does.

He pulls Jihoon into the back of an empty lecture hall before cornering him against one of the tables. The cherubish boy hadn’t protested when Woojin had grabbed him from the halls, allowing himself to be wordlessly dragged along to his whims. As he stares at the older’s dazed but guarded expression, he wishes he knew what went on in his head. His actions, for a lack of a better word, were _confusing_. Just days earlier he had bandaged his wounded hand before kissing him sweetly, and that had been great and all, but then Jihoon had suddenly left in the middle of their session with a frown and a stuttered apology, leaving Woojin helpless in the office.

Thankfully, it had been a wake-up call of sorts, because Woojin had realized he was tired of always being the one to be left behind, wearily noting the older’s tendency to run off even though _he_ was the one to start it. The realization had led to the situation now, and Woojin is determined to be the one to initiate this time, because as soft as he is for stupidly confusing Park Jihoon, he knows how to take control in a relationship.

Unfortunately, his bid for an explanation for the older’s habit of running away remains steadfast on his lips, too distracted by how stunning the slighter man is. Jihoon’s eyes blink up at him in a way that makes his heart gasp weakly, lips parted just the slightest in a manner that makes him want to devour them, and _ah shit_ , Jihoon closes his eyes and leans upwards for a kiss, and Woojin’s demands are forgotten somewhere in the distance lost between their lips.

“Baby,” he breathes out when they part and Jihoon’s shy giggle makes him glad he’s holding onto the table, or else he might have ended up kneeling like an idiot in front of him. The brunette reaches up to loop his arms around Woojin’s neck and it feels _perfect_ to be in his embrace so he leans in for another kiss, this one deeper, and he smiles against Jihoon’s lips because _gosh, he’s so whipped_ and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

He loves how Jihoon lets a breathy moan escape when he bites on his lower lip, loves how Jihoon tugs on his hair when the kisses are too soft for his liking, loves how the older somehow ends up sitting on the table so that he’s eye level with Woojin, arms comfortably perched on his shoulders, and he doesn’t even know how much time passes as lips meet lips and tongues swirl and smiles are pressed together.

They kiss and they kiss and they kiss and Woojin is _happy_. Maybe it’s because he’s a dancer, but for him, words could never explain as well as touches could. So he kisses Jihoon to tell him that he forgives him for running away, to tell him that he thinks the older is perfect, to tell him that he might be just a little in love with the beautiful boy named Park Jihoon.

He doesn’t know exactly what Jihoon tries to convey to him, only knows that the brunette is content in his arms as they kiss and that’s all he really needs: to know that Jihoon is happy when he’s with him.

Despite their limited conversations, he can tell Jihoon is someone who needs a lot of assurance. This is something he’s realized from that one time at a cafe where he watched  the boy tutor his peers, smiling at how the boy had lit up every time he had been complimented on how skilled of a teacher he was. He can tell that Jihoon is someone who’s always careful. This is something he’s realized from that time at the library where he had seen the older thumb through his incredibly detailed notes as he studied, recalling how the boy had left the library with two more stacks of the same detailed, hand-written notes.

So forgive him for being naive, but he kisses the boy to let him know that he’ll wait for the day the older will be comfortable enough to offer Woojin the whole of his heart.

He’s not deaf to the rumors that surround him. He knows he’s been called a player, a bad boy, a heartbreaker. At one point, he had even taken a bit of pride in the names because they just served to show how attractive he is. And he’s not dumb enough to hope that Jihoon hasn’t heard the rumors, because he’s sure the boy has—can almost count on it considering Sungwoon still hasn’t forgiven him for rejecting Seonho. So he understands all the more when Jihoon sometimes avoids eye contact with him in passing, even if it stings a little. This is why he understands all the more when Jihoon doesn’t answer his questions, because that’d make him vulnerable, even though Woojin _wants_ to be trusted. This is why—

He pulls away from the kiss to gently tug Jihoon’s hands down from the base of his neck, interlacing their fingers together instead. The brunette blinks at him curiously and Woojin smiles sweetly in return, savoring the seconds that pass as his eyes trace over each and every one of Jihoon’s endearing features. Once he’s done he lets go of Jihoon’s hands to pull the older in a tight embrace and whispers a soft _“I like you”_ into the crook of his neck. He doesn’t miss how Jihoon tenses at his words, so he muffles a sigh and loosens his hold to pull away again.

Jihoon’s expression is a mixture of wariness and confusion, of reproach and anxiety, of sadness and tiredness, and Woojin understands—will force himself to understand, even if his heart breaks at the other’s uncertainty when the only thing Woojin is certain about is his love for the older. He doesn’t say anything when the brunette pushes him away gently to slip off the table, doesn’t say anything when the boy avoids his gaze, doesn’t say anything when he leaves the room.

He won’t say anything, he reminds himself as he sits down on the cold floor, leaning against the leg of the table. He won’t, he thinks as he buries his head in his arms.

It becomes a mantra in his head, almost comforting when a few—or many—tears roll down his cheeks because he’s so scared of the fact that he’s _fucking in love with Park Jihoon who might not love him back._

**➨➨➨**

On the rare occasion Woojin reads a romance novel, he likes to skip over the parts where characters mope over their loved ones, scoffing at how they drink themselves to numbness or shut themselves away from their world. Love that makes you so depressed you can’t even see what’s best for you?

Park Woojin doesn’t believe a single inch of it. (After all, if it hurts that much, is it really love?)  
But then he meets Park Jihoon, and suddenly he does.

Woojin lies outstretched on his bed, arm over his eyes. He tunes out the sound of Doyeon drying her hair in his bathroom, his head making it easy when all he can see is the moment Jihoon had pulled himself away from him after a kiss outside of his classroom to walk into the arms of another man without a second glance back.

Okay, maybe he’s being a little dramatic. Said man was Bae Jinyoung, who’s dating his cousin Daehwi, and he’s seen the two act like lovesick puppies too often to even consider the small-faced boy having romantic feelings for Jihoon.

But still.

He hates how Jihoon, even after all these weeks, refuses to open up. He said he’d wait for the boy to be comfortable enough, but honestly his patience is wearing pretty thin. Don’t even get him started on how two days ago he had smoked _one_ cigarette to take the edge off—bad habit, he _knows_ —and Jihoon had decided that hour to walk up to him with a timid smile, only to stare at him with reproach when he had realized the scent. (At least _he_ hadn’t walked off into freaking Minhyun’s arms.)

He doesn’t understand; does Jihoon think he can keep walking out on Woojin whenever he likes?

“Doyeon, am I easy?” he yells from his room. The hair dryer is turned off at his question, and a pretty head pokes into his room.

“Kind of,” she shrugs, walking over to sit down on his bed. He glares at her as he moves his arm off his eyes and she snorts in exasperation. “You talk about how Jihoon keeps leaving but you keep chasing after him,” Doyeon points out as she runs a hand through her hair.

“That makes two of us,” he retorts sharply, but the girl doesn’t even flinch, only accepts it with a wistful smile, and now Woojin feels like an asshole, but Doyeon waves it off as if reading his mind.

“Come on, let’s get dead drunk tonight and forget about our boy problems,” she says, tone too light for either of their situations. Jihoon always left him. Eunwoo always ignored her.

 _Oh, it works the other way around too_ , Woojin chuckles bitterly as he thinks of his one-sided texts. It’s at this thought that the dancer prompts himself to get dressed, letting Doyeon style his hair handsomely as he puts on an earring. He leaves his apartment with Doyeon on his arm, and she isn’t bad company at all, stunning in her gold dress and simple makeup, and that’s enough for tonight to have his best friend with him.

The party is too loud and crowded for his taste, but it has a lot of alcohol—bless whoever is supplying the vodka—and that’s what he came for, so bottoms up.

Woojin’s alcohol tolerance has always scared many, so he knows he’ll be fine when he starts the night off with a few shots of rum. He downs shot after shot, only stopping occasionally when he gets up to dance in front of the crowd much to the students’ delight, and he _thrives_ in the attention they shower with him, preens under the longing looks they give him when he throws himself back onto the couch. Thankfully none of them approach him because his mind is still filled to the brim with thoughts of a certain brunette and he grins at his lucky golden charm, Kim Doyeon, who is too gorgeous for any person to even have the guts to walk up to them, not when she’s leaning her head on his shoulder with an unamused line to her lips.

He knows the expression comes from the alcohol and not from any actual desire to keep others off of him but he appreciates it nonetheless. As the night gets deeper, even he starts to feel the alcohol kicking his mind into a hazy place, but Park Jihoon still remains frustratingly clear in his head. This pushes him to drink more and more and more, and every time his throat burns with vodka and rum and maybe a combination of the two, he wishes he could forget about the beautiful boy that keeps chiding at him.

“Wanna make a bet,” Doyeon slurs from next to him, and Woojin turns interestedly—even though he _shouldn’t_ be interested, seeing as how Drunk Doyeon was also Dumb Doyeon, but he’s too drunk to care, too sad to think straight.

“Yeah, what’s up?” he asks with a smirk and his eyes are drawn to her phone, which shines bright in the dimness of the party. The girl gestures at the contact on her screen and he reads _Cah Enuwoo_ —oh, _Cha Eunwoo_ —and he nods slowly, taking out his own phone to show Jihoon’s contact.

“Let’s call them,” she laughs hollowly, even though Woojin doesn’t see anything funny about that. He thinks Doyeon is dumb and pets her on the head gently. Calling someone who wasn’t going to pick up? That—that was like stepping on a nail on purpose. He explains this  to Doyeon, who laughs harder, and for some reason he laughs too. “Exactly, booboo,”

“I am _not_ your booboo,” Woojin frowns, squinting at the girl.

“You will be. Let’s call them and if they don’t pick up, _kiss me_ ,” Doyeon squeals excitedly, throwing her hands up in the air. Woojin gapes at her because wow, this was a _great_ idea.

“Wait, you know I don’t like you, right?” he asks, holding a hand up, if a bit unsteadily. Doyeon rolls her eyes exaggeratedly as if to say _yeah, duh me too_ and that’s all he needs to tell her that he’s totally in for the plan, because _fuck_ boy problems, he can just kiss his best friend today! And she won’t leave because she doesn’t like him like that and neither does he and—

He presses the _Call_ button and his heartbeat speeds up all of a sudden. Doyeon complains at him pressing faster than her, and both of them sit on that couch, listening to their phones titter. As expected, neither of their boys pick up. Woojin and Doyeon exchange sad smiles, and Woojin kind of wants to cry but this was just a dumb bet so he stands up and offers his best friend a hand.

He drags her to the middle of the dance floor, ignoring the murmurs and recording phones, and pulls her in to kiss her. He smiles at the absurdity of it all and Doyeon does too, and they kiss but neither of them feel anything that night, the feeling of lips on their own only reminding them of the boys who always ignore them, and he closes his eyes a little harder, because _dammit_ he’s kissing Doyeon, the most gorgeous and wonderful girl he’s ever had the pleasure of befriending, and yet he’s thinking of Park Jihoon, and when Doyeon’s hands on his shoulders begin to shake he pulls her out of the party and brings both of them back to his home, tucking his crying best friend into his bed neatly before collapsing on his own couch.

Oh how love breaks them, he thinks sadly as he stares off into the blackness of the ceiling to the sound of Doyeon’s muffled sobs.

**➨➨➨**

Despite Daehwi forcibly holding shoujo anime marathons at his apartment every month, Woojin doesn’t think he’ll ever understand the appeal of it. It’s not the cheesy plots that throw him off nor is it the unnecessary sparkles that follow every semi-attractive character, it’s the fact that most of the problems are caused by a lack of communication. That’s all he seems to really get from these shows: it’ll physically pain you to talk out your problems—in fact it’ll be so difficult that it’ll basically almost ruin your relationship!

Park Woojin doesn’t believe a single inch of it. (Mouths were made to talk, how difficult can it be?)  
But then he meets Park Jihoon, and suddenly he does.

This is how he ends up pausing Daehwi’s monthly shoujo anime marathon to sit his younger cousin down because as sad as it is, this is the closest he’ll get to figuring out what Jihoon is stressing over.

“Not this again,” Daehwi complains with a dramatic roll of his eyes. He gives the older an unimpressed look as he hugs a pillow to his chest but it seems like Woojin is too pitiful to ignore because the boy sighs and makes a spreading gesture with his hands. “Okay, fine. Ask me whatever. But I already told you about his allergies and his family and even the names of his stuffed animals—what else can you ask?”

Woojin chews on his bottom lip as he stares down at his hands because even if he gets the answers he wants, he’ll have wished Jihoon had been the one to say them. But alas, time is ticking, Woojin is actually considering becoming a Douchebag just to break Jihoon’s heart so that the older will at least properly reject him even if that’d break him, and Daehwi’s patience is wearing away at the speed of light because episode 4 of _Ouran Highschool Host Club_ is waiting for them—so he looks up solemnly and asks: “Why does Jihoon keep pushing me away?”

His cousin’s expression becomes guarded, his eyebrow raised the slightest as if to ask _really, you’re asking me this instead of Jihoon?_

“I’ve asked,” Woojin protests, putting his hands up in surrender. “I asked and that’s when he ran out on me that day,”

Daehwi’s face softens at this and Woojin can almost see his cousin trying to math out the pros and cons of telling him. Fortunately, the pros seem to win because the boy clears his throat as if to prepare himself for a lot of talking.

And a lot of talking he does.

So much talking, in fact, that Daehwi gets close to tears _three_ times, and Woojin gets close to bursting out of his apartment to smother Jihoon in kisses and hugs at least _seven_ times. Because honestly, what the actual _fuck_?

It all falls into place right then. Why Jihoon sometimes freezes up when they’re together. Why Jihoon looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack at his apartment—because he actually was, you wholeass idiot Park Woojin. Why Jihoon sometimes looks strained at Woojin cooing about how pretty he is, because even though Woojin thinks his entire _being_ is pretty, everything from his mannerisms to his voice to his laugh, it’s just a terrible reminder of insults used to put him down. Why Jihoon is so weary of him, always so distanced, always refusing to talk—because getting closer makes him vulnerable and he can’t afford that.

And it breaks Woojin’s heart so, _so_ bad.

He wants to go find Jihoon, to assure him that he is everything amazing and wonderful and smart and gracious. He wants to be the one to hold Jihoon when the other can’t stop shaking during a panic attack. He wants to be the one to kiss his tears away, but also to be the one to put a smile on his face, because a smile from Jihoon is _everything_ to him.

And oh he so desperately he wants to be The One for Jihoon, because some time in the past few months he already knew he had found his soulmate in the form of a brilliant psychology major named Park Jihoon.

But Daehwi warns him that he can’t jump Jihoon with his new revelations and Woojin has to agree. Lucky—or perhaps unlucky—for him, the older had already tearily confessed he did _not_ want to see Woojin’s face just yesterday, and he had deserved it. When Jihoon had confessed he had seen the video of him kissing Doyeon weeks ago, he had laughed because it was _such_ a simple misunderstanding. But he had hurt Jihoon—both by kissing his best friend and by laughing—and had made him _cry_. (It still stung to think about how Jihoon had pushed him away with a sob.)

It’s no surprise to Woojin when Daehwi tells him that he will probably only have one chance to talk about this with Jihoon, the conversation determining whether or not the boy trusts him enough to keep him in his life. But it does surprise him when his cousin tells him that Woojin has as much of a right to leave Jihoon, the younger acknowledging that no matter what Jihoon had gone through, it didn’t excuse the way the older treated him, and then Woojin cries.

He cries because he thinks of how much pain Jihoon’s lived through but also how much pain the boy has caused him. He cries because love has never seemed so terrifying until it had come up to him on that dumb rooftop, and it’s like the view from the edge of the building, nauseating as you look down but also somehow breathtaking. He cries because he’s so tired of following Jihoon around on the days the older won’t even spare him a glance of acknowledgement. And he cries because despite it all, he’s found the answer.

Woojin cries because he’s so heartbroken but also because he’s so, so in love with Park Jihoon.

➨➨➨

Commitment has always seemed a little ridiculous to Woojin, as terrible as that might sound. In his defense, he’s just a college student, and honestly why would you tie yourself down to one person when the campus was overflowing with charming people? Even if Daniel waxing poems about Seongwoo is pretty cute, the probability that you’ll find your forever in a place where people hook up in shady bathrooms?

Park Woojin doesn’t believe a single inch of it. (Like come on, who actually believes they’ll marry their college sweetheart?)  
But then he meets Park Jihoon, and suddenly he does.

Park Woojin opens his eyes to a smaller figure cuddled up to him and he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel the prick of tears threatening him. His head is pounding from a hangover caused by one too many shots but he’ll take a hangover everyday if it means he can wake up with Park Jihoon in his arms. It takes him a few moments before memories of the night before come flooding back to him and then he’s glad that Doyeon coaxed him into drinking with her last night because apparently Drunk Woojin had more guts than Sober Woojin. (Bless his inebriated self.)

When Jihoon shifts in his hold, the dancer stills. He watches the older boy mumble into his chest before he opens his eyes slowly, eyelashes fluttering, and the slightly hesitant but _warm_ smile he gives Woojin is enough for him to know for sure that this is the person he wants to wake up next to every morning for the rest of his life.

He reaches out a hand to gently brush away the boy’s bangs from his eyes and Jihoon’s gaze is unwavering as it meets his. He watches as the boy chews on his bottom lip, willing to wait however long it takes for Jihoon to gather his thoughts.

“I love you,” the older confesses simply after a short pause and then Woojin is breathless at the shy smile and the blush and how Jihoon’s voice is low and hoarse in the morning and how the boy leans in to whisper his confession again on Woojin’s lips. And how can he not say it back immediately, even if it’s the first time those words have ever left his lips for anyone other than family and friends?

They stay on the couch together in a tranquil silence for a few more minutes until Jihoon’s alarm blares from a room away and the two laugh as they get up to do their business. Woojin washes up and only waits long enough for Jihoon to do so as well before he pins the older against the wall, kisses _wanting_ as he tries to memorize the moment in his head for when they’re older and grayer. Because he wants to remember this moment as twenty somethings, the day after the two finally stopped dancing around each other, the day Woojin gave Jihoon his first _I love you_ , the day his heart was only full of love around the older, not a trace of heartbreak left.

He pulls away long enough so that the boy can make them toast and eggs, but he doesn’t let him out of his sight once, insistently holding him in a back embrace even through Jihoon’s weak protests that it was a safety hazard. Breakfast is quiet but sweet and Woojin can’t resist leaning over to peck the other’s cheeks every once in a while, can’t resist when he pulls the boy away from the table when they’re done eating into his arms so that they can kiss again, relishing in the way Jihoon’s gaze for once is sure and content.

Woojin can’t help but burst in pride when the two leave the apartment with their hands linked obviously, can’t help sneak a kiss in whenever a friend comes up with a curious gaze to answer any question that remains, because Park Jihoon is now solely _his_ and he wants to scream it to the world. The dancer leaves reluctantly for his class but only after a lingering embrace and Jihoon’s amused huff and he almost collapses into Doyeon’s arms when he spots her outside the lecture hall, thanking her for getting him drunk.

The girl laughs good-naturedly, eyes warm as she congratulates him, and he stifles a laugh of his own when the almighty Cha Eunwoo walks over and pointedly pulls her from his embrace, smiles at how Doyeon’s eyes light up and bids the two farewell before he’s off to class. Once all his classes are finished Woojin returns to his apartment so he can change out of his day-old clothes and he has to restrain himself from literally devouring the brunnette that stands smiling outside his door because _geez,_ Park Jihoon isn’t good for his heart.

Jihoon stays over that night and though they do more kissing than talking, Woojin is happy because now he knows the days ahead of them are limitless, knows that the older _will_ talk to him even if it’s little by little, knows that the boy that falls asleep in his arms as the moon rises won’t leave him on a whim anymore.

 

If someone had told him months earlier he’d be heads over heels for the boy he had met on a rooftop, Woojin wouldn’t have believed a single inch of it.  
But now that he has Park Jihoon in his arms, all he can think about is how hopelessly happy he is.

_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> This was born out of a sugar-fueled night that somehow pushed me to write almost the entire thing in one go. When I was rereading this I realized that some of my readers might have wanted me to write more about Jihoon and Woojin's lovey dovey moments but I hope that this doesn't disappoint too much! I just wanted to unearth the hurt on the other end, and you might have noticed but Woojin was already totally whipped for Jihoon from their second meeting. 
> 
> Thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos left on my first work! I didn't expect such love and though I don't know if the sequel will meet your expectations, it was a pleasure writing this. :)


End file.
